


The Patronus Charm

by Yatorihell



Series: In The Darkness [53]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, ノラガミ | Noragami (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25764502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatorihell/pseuds/Yatorihell
Summary: Yato begins teaching the Patronus Charm with surprising results.Thank you Blue (kiun.tumblr) for beta-ing
Relationships: Bishamonten | Vaisravana/Kazuma, Iki Hiyori/Yato
Series: In The Darkness [53]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/547369
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	The Patronus Charm

Yato’s last class on a Thursday afternoon was Care of Magical Creatures with the sixth year students.

The class trailed behind Kuraha to their next creature hidden within the forest, with Bishamon walking ahead of Yato. This was the only class that the two of them shared alone as Kazuma hadn’t chosen Creatures as an elective, but it seemed Yato and Bishamon had a small friendship growing from their Defence training.

Kuraha picked up a bucket from outside his little groundskeeper hut as he passed. He didn’t stop as they neared the paddocks which were filled with Jackalopes, which were basically horned rabbits.

He led them further into the forest where it became more shadowy and into a small, empty clearing. Dead leaves littered the ground and every shade of darkening auburn hung over their heads as the autumnal leaves continued to fall.

Here, they were introduced to something Yato had never seen before.

Yato watched the creatures move, their hooves scuffing up the bracken and fallen leaves. At a glance, they seemed to be a type of winged horse, like a Pegasus, but further inspection revealed something far more sinister.

Its skeletal body was covered by a smooth but thin black coat which defined every bone as they walked around the glade. Two leathery wings sprouted from each wither on their backs and folded at their sides, extending every now and then as they flexed. They easily had the same wingspan of a Hippogriff but lacked feathers and flesh under their impressive structure.

The face was the most unusual as they did not have an equine resemblance. Their faces were leathery and worn like their wings, dragon-like with a hooked beak at the end of its long snout. Milky-white pupil-less eyes directed their attention to Yato, and Yato understood why anyone would be afraid if they saw this creature.

“These are Thestrals,” Kuraha said. He dumped the bucket on the ground and a wet sloshing filled the air.

The class looked at him, confused.

“They are social creatures which is why there is a herd – not that you can see them,” Kuraha said gruffly. “Only those who have seen death are able to see them.”

The class shifted, eyeing each other to work out who was able to see them. Not many people had experience with death nor seen it first-hand, but in Yato’s case, he could see them clear as day.

Unbeknownst to Yato, Bishamon could see them too.

Whilst the rest of the class couldn’t see these creatures that lurked before them, Kuraha could easily demonstrate their existence.

He reached into the bucket and pulled out huge slabs of dripping meat and threw them into the air before the class. Invisible forces snapped up the heavy steaks instantly and bird-like screeches sounded from nowhere as the steaks were torn apart before their eyes.

“Those shrieks you’re hearing are the Thestrals communicating with each other.” Kuraha picked up some more slabs and threw them into the frenzy. “Thestrals can also be trained to understand a rider when asked to travel somewhere specifically.”

Kuraha wiped his bloody hands on his slacks and looked at the class. His eyepatch covered one of his grey eyes which observed the confused but understanding faces of his students.

“They can understand you, and whether or not you’re a friend, so watch what you do around them. If they see you as a threat, they will attack.”

For a moment Kuraha’s good eye raked over the students, searching for those who could perceive the Thestrals. His gaze fell on two students at the far side of the group, their eyes clearly following a baby Thestral as it approached them.

Whilst Thestrals were eerily beautiful, they could not be appreciated by those who could not see them. Kuraha gestured for the students to follow him down a worn path which led to the outskirts of the forest where the paddocks were located, each class a new creature waiting for them.

Yato watched the Thestrals for a moment longer as the class began shuffling through the thick blanket of leaves that carpeted the forest floor. Yato turned to leave as the footsteps faded, but his eye caught on two things. The bucket of meat that Kuraha had left behind, and, first and foremost, Bishamon.

Yato paused. It wasn’t like her to wait up for him.

Yato placed his hands in his robe pockets and mooched his way over to Bishamon, feet kicking up rotting leaves and small twigs. However, Bishamon didn’t acknowledge him when he stopped beside her, her gaze fixated on something ahead.

The penny dropped as Yato turned his head; a Thestral was looking straight at him and Bishamon.

“You can see them too?” Yato asked. He sounded incredulous, which may have been rude given the circumstances one had to have been through to see a Thestral.

Bishamon nodded and the eye contact between her and the Thestral was broken. It turned away from the pair, wings flexing as it headed towards the far end of the clearing.

They watched the creatures in silence, observing the herd as they sniffed the ground for remnants of food and let out gentle shrieks.

Yato thought to himself about the tragic nature of a Thestral. Invisible to those who hadn’t seen death, their presence was a harsh reminder of lost loved ones and painful memories. It was a shame that someone had to see death to see these hauntingly beautiful creatures, and it was all the more tragic when someone their age could see them.

“Who did you see?” Yato hated himself the second he said it; what an insensitive question.

Surprisingly, Bishamon didn’t seem to mind answering. “My grandfather.”

They fell into silence once again. Bishamon didn’t need to ask Yato the same question; his person was Suzuha.

Yato wracked his brain for a less sensitive topic, but the only one that came to mind was what she had done in their last Defence training class. He’d yet to ask Kazuma about it, but if Bishamon was friends with him now, then it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“So… you and Kazuma?” Yato said slowly, testing the waters.

Bishamon smiled, eyes following a baby Thestral as it stumbled around and snapped at falling leaves. “We started dating in the summer. Our families have married a few times, to keep the bloodlines pure.”

Yato realised that she was talking about the Sacred Twenty-Eight. These were ancient families that were supposedly still ‘true pure-bloods’, and Bishamon was descended from one of them. However, it could be debated that there were no longer any pureblood families; some members would eventually marry half-bloods, Muggleborns and even Muggles as the generations passed.

Yato wondered if the idea of marriage had been considered by Bishamon’s and Kazuma’s families now that they were dating.

“Do you think your parents will want you to marry?” Yato asked. “Not Kazuma, per se, but into one of the twenty-eight families?”

“My parents died when I was a child.”

Bishamon’s short answer shocked Yato. He’d known her for six years and – whilst they fought for most of them – he never knew she had no parents.

They stood in silence, the hooves of the magical creatures surrounding them rustled the leaves as they wandered around the barren glade. The baby Thestral had become disinterested in catching leaves and looked around, eyes falling on Yato and Bishamon. It trotted over to them, flapping its wings and causing an updraft of burnt orange leaves to flutter at their feet. It eyed the pail of food at Bishamon’s side and snapped its beak with a small screech.

“Can I ask how they…?” Yato asked gently. He trailed off at the end to indicate that she didn’t have to answer such a personal question.

Bishamon remained quiet and reached into the bucket. She pulled out a slab of meat that dripped some blood onto the bracken and threw it towards the baby Thestral. It reared slightly on its hind legs and caught it, tearing it apart with its razor-sharp beak and swallowing large chunks whole.

After a second of watching the Thestral, Bishamon answered. “They died in the First Wizarding War, fighting for the Ministry with Professor Tenjin.”

Yato stared at her as she threw another piece of meat to a larger Thestral who had caught wind of the free food.

‘ _With Professor Tenjin…’ Her parents must have been in the Order of the Phoenix._ Yato kept his mouth shut and looked away, hoping Bishamon would reveal more, but she didn’t.

“I was raised by what was left of my family afterwards, but mostly it was just me and the house staff who stayed around to look after me when my grandfather died,” Bishamon continued. “As an only child, it's my job to continue my parent’s legacy.”

It sounded wrong for Bishamon, only sixteen years old, to think that her job was to continue an outdated tradition in the name of family legacy, but Yato said nothing. It was her choice and hers alone if she wanted to honour her family tradition, and she didn’t need to be told that.

But finding out her parents were in the Order of the Phoenix just like Sakura’s, that was news to him.

Yato wondered how many more of the Sacred Twenty-Eight had joined Professor Tenjin’s Order of the Phoenix, and whether or not Sakura had reached out to them. Bishamon seemed clueless about its existence, but if she knew that her parents joined the Order – and who they truly fought for – then maybe she would continue that legacy fighting the Sorcerer. He would have to ask Sakura, but since she had recruited Yukine and Hiyori as his friends, Yato would ask her to do the same for Kazuma and Bishamon.

Bishamon interrupted Yato’s train of thought in a gentle voice. “I believe you. About the Sorcerer.”

Yato looked at Bishamon, and she gave him a small, genuine smile. She had never done that before. “If you need anything, you can always ask.”

Yato nodded his head duly, not knowing what to say aside from ‘Thanks’.

Bishamon’s hair fluttered in the slight breeze as she stepped forward, carefully petting the baby Thestral which protested her departure loudly.

Yato scooped up the empty pail, throwing a glance at Bishamon with a light smile. Today, he’d seen a side to her that he hadn’t seen before, and their rivalry had ended.

After all, a friend was better than a foe.

~

Sakura was right when she said they were on their own.

On Monday morning, a framed sign appeared on the stone wall beside the Great Hall which caught the attention of all students who had come down for breakfast. A crowd had gathered quickly, all staring at the sign, which perplexed those who were too far away to see anything aside from the grey stones. Yukine was one of those students.

Yukine cursed under his breath and pushed his way through the crowd, bashing younger and smaller students unapologetically as they refused to budge. Hiyori and Yato were at the forefront of the crowd, faces stony.

“What’s going on?” Yukine asked. He looked at Yato for an answer, but Yato wore a scowl as his eyes scanned the sign for the hundredth time.

Yukine turned his attention to the framed parchment and read the cursive font.

_**Proclamation** _

_**Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four** _

_**All Student Organisations are henceforth disbanded** _

_**Any student in noncompliance will be expelled** _

Yukine leant forward and squinted at the smaller text underneath, which was half-covered by Professor Oshi’s signature and a seal from the Ministry of Magic.

“'Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Oshi)’,” Yukine read under her breath. “'No Student Organisation may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor, punishable by expulsion.’”

Shit.

Yukine looked at Yato and Hiyori, lost for words. Professor Oshi banned all clubs for no reason… or did she have a reason?

Hiyori caught Yukine’s eye and nudged her head to the side. Yukine took the hint and began making his way out of the crowd; they needed to go somewhere private to talk. Hiyori tugged on the sleeve of Yato’s robe, towing him out of the crowd behind Yukine. They made their way down the corridor and the crowd behind them started dispersing into the Great Hall, eager for breakfast, as the trio followed Yukine into an empty classroom.

As soon as the door shut behind them, they let out frustrated sighs.

“How did she find out?” Yukine hissed.

“Someone must’ve seen us,” Yato ran a hand through his hair. He was beyond irritated. They had been so careful…

“She might not know…” As soon as she said it, Hiyori knew it was a stupid idea. Why else would Professor Oshi disband all student groups?

“She can’t do this, can she?” Yukine asked. He looked at Yato for an answer, who paced the room annoyedly. After a moment he came to a stop, and the room quietened.

“Oshi is only a teacher because the Minister passed an Educational Decree to appoint her for a vacant teaching post that the Headmaster couldn’t fill,” Yato said.

They knew the vacant position was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and whilst it was true they had a bad streak of teachers, it was obvious that the Ministry had placed Oshi in Hogwarts to spy on Professor Tenjin.

“Why isn’t Professor Tenjin stopping her?” Hiyori asked. “He _is_ the Headmaster.”

Yato shook his head. “Tenjin probably can’t defy her if the Minister thinks he’s going to overthrow him. That will just prove it.”

“We aren’t going to stop,” Yukine announced. He turned to Yato, green eyes flashing with burning passion and anger. “You said so yourself that you would train us when the Ministry banned practical magic.”

Yato nodded, felling Hiyori’s eyes on him expectantly. “I did.”

“Then train us!” Yukine exclaimed.

Deep down, Yukine knew that Yato, Hiyori, nor any of the other students would let something like a disband stop them, not when so much was at stake. The scars – mental and physical – gave him cause to continue to fight, and he wouldn’t stop until justice was done.

“We are Hogwarts’ Order of the Phoenix,” Yukine declared. “We will protect ourselves.”

~

October slipped by and November brought snowfall to the castle. The Quidditch teams had been allowed to reform after Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four was enforced, but Yato, Hiyori and Yukine were thankful that they didn’t have to play through the cold season.

Wintery snowdrifts began to pile in the windowsills and hallway arches, refusing to melt in the cold sunshine air. The dusting of snow led to most students wrapping themselves up in their house scarves, woollen hats jammed on their head and fingers stiff with cold as they tried to put on gloves.

The warmth of the castle kept the students warm in their classrooms, but the Room of Requirement struggled to keep out the cold as the tower was surrounded by nothing but sky. Yato and Yukine decided to steal some logs from the woodpile outside Kuraha’s hut and bring them up to the classroom before their training session, igniting the fireplace for the first time that year. 

Hiyori shivered as the first wave of warmth hit her as she entered the Room of Requirement. The snow had melted on her clothing as she made her way upstairs, leaving her damp and frozen, but the sound of a crackling fire was welcomed.

Hiyori pulled off her hat and scarf as she crossed the room to the fireplace, meandering her way through the few students who had arrived before her.

Yato and Yukine stood before the hearth warming their hands, a few more logs piled next to the firepit waiting to be added. Yato noticed Hiyori approaching and offered a greeting, moving to the side so Hiyori could get in next to the fire.

They had hung their sopping wet hats, scarves, gloves and robes next to the fireplace on some hooks that she hadn’t noticed, and Hiyori followed suit. Shrugging off her robe, Hiyori tutted when she saw the wet patches that had leaked through onto her jumper. Hopefully, the fire would dry them off before dinner.

Hiyori held her hands out to the fire and shivered again. “I wish they would move Herbology out of the greenhouses in the winter.”

Yukine smirked; Hufflepuffs didn’t have Herbology with Gryffindors since the greenhouses were too small. “Steal some of the gardening gloves, they’ll keep your hands warm and dry.”

“I’m not going to steal, Yukine,” Hiyori scolded.

Yukine shrugged. “Your loss.”

They stood around the fireplace, allowing other waterlogged students to huddle around the fire and warm up a bit before they started class. Defence training was going well, and they had begun to breach new topics. One that Yato was adamant to teach before the Christmas break was the Patronus Charm.

By the time the last students had trickled in, the class was beginning. They took their places around the class spread out from the others, wands in hand.

Yato stood at the head of the room in front of the fireplace, arms behind his back. The flames backlit his figure and shadows of snowfall beyond the lattice windows filtered across his face. In that moment Hiyori could see that his confidence and command of the room had grown.

When Yato stood before them, they knew that class was in session.

“A Patronus acts like a shield against a Dementor, using a positive force that the Dementor can feed on instead of its caster,” Yato echoed the words Professor Daikoku had told him about the Patronus charm. “To cast this charm, you need a happy, powerful memory.”

Yato looked around the class, finding Hiyori and Yukine within the crowd a short distance away from Kazuma and Bishamon.

“Close your eyes.”

The class closed their eyes.

“Find a happy memory.”

The crackle of flames licking at splintering logs in the fireplace seemed deafening. Not a whisper nor breath could be heard as they searched their memories for their happiest moments.

For Bishamon, her happiest memory was her first Quidditch Cup victory, whereas Kazuma’s was his first date with Bishamon to the Quidditch World Cup. Yukine’s was his first kiss with Suzuha in the greenhouses, and for Hiyori, it was the entirety of the Yule Ball.

“Now speak the incantation, _‘Expecto Patronum’_.”

“ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” the class echoed.

“Focus on the memory, open your eyes, and cast the spell.”

In near unison the class uttered the spell, wands raised. Some wands glowed with a hint of white light at the tip, others did not. The voices became disjointed as the class uttered the spell over and over, more forcefully as they willed their Patronus into existence.

Yato began pacing around the room, examining the way wands were held silently. He couldn’t really do anything to help aside from telling them to find a happier memory, as Daikoku had told Yato.

However, it wasn’t long before someone conjured it.

The first Patronus to emerge was a blur of a tail as it ran overhead. Excited gasps rang out as a few students stopped and turned, their own wand tips dying out as their attention was diverted.

Yato caught a glimpse of a Golden Retriever leaving a trail of whispery silvery-blue as it raced across the air, bounding in manic circles across the length of the room. It surged downwards and wove between the forest of legs, tongue lolling, before it hurled itself straight at Kazuma.

Kazuma grunted at the force of a would-be 30-kilogram dog slamming into his chest, wand and glasses clattering to the ground and knocking him off his feet. Concentration gone and disarmed, the excitable Patronus faded in an instant to the applause of Kazuma’s fellow trainees.

Bishamon picked up Kazuma’s glasses which – miraculously – had survived the fall, and handed them back to him on the ground. Kazuma wheezed a ‘thank you’ and picked himself up, Ravenclaw tie askew.

With that, the class redoubled their efforts.

Within minutes, whispery trails had poured from wands and formed into half-formed Patronus’ or even fully formed ones. Kazuma rendered his own once again, attempting to control the rambunctiousness and avoiding getting knocked over again.

Yato watched as something slithered out of a Ravenclaws’ wand and writhed in the air, shaking itself violently as if to fend off a predator. If Yato didn’t know any better, he’d say it was a worm.

What a tragically funny Patronus.

Bishamon conjured her Patronus next, and to everyone’s astonishment, it matched the crest of Gryffindor. If he thought about it, it wasn’t much surprise that Bishamon had a lion; she was a true Gryffindor after all.

The lion roared and shook its mane, sending sparkles shimmering down on Bishamon as she grinned up at the majestic beast that paced above her head.

Kazuma’s mouth was agape as the lion paced towards his seemingly much smaller Patronus dog, worried it may tear the poor pooch apart. However, the golden retriever didn’t seem to understand that he may have been in danger. It wiggled playfully in a bow at the lion, pawing the air every now and then as it jumped around in circles in front of the unimpressed big cat.

After a moment, the lion swiped a big paw at the dog, the way in which a cat might bat at a pest. Bishamon laughed, and Kazuma smiled when he saw their Patronuses interacting. Golden retrievers were loyal, and he liked to think that said something about his character.

The class tripled its effort at seeing another Patronus – and a lion at that – appear before them playing with the Golden Retriever.

However, Hiyori couldn’t seem to get past a bright white light on the tip of her wand as she focused hard on her memory. Yato wandered over to her and cast a glance at Yukine who also seemed to be struggling.

Hiyori didn’t seem to notice Yato, too intent on conjuring her Patronus that she didn’t see him watching her closely. Even though he couldn’t help her memory, he could encourage her.

Yato came up behind Hiyori and gently covered her hand with his own, guiding the wand upwards.

Hiyori barely flinched, although she would admit her concentration wavered at the feeling of Yato’s warm skin on hers. She could sense his face next to hers, eyes on the space ahead of where she willed her Patronus to appear.

“Concentrate,” Yato said softly.

Hiyori’s Patronus burst forth as soon as Yato uttered the word in her ear, electrifying her senses and giving a surge of energy to her spell. It appeared similar to Kazuma’s at first, dog-like and shaggy, until it tipped its head back and let out a long howl.

A wolf, Yato said to himself.

He smiled and looked at Hiyori, but she was focused on her Patronus with a small, shy smile. She may have been blushing, but then again, her cheeks may be rosy from the heat of the room.

Yato turned to help Yukine, but it seemed he had managed to make his memory strong enough to reveal his Patronus.

His wand trailed thin smoke-like wisps that created a small cloud above his head. Yukine watched excitedly as it formed, hoping it would be something as strong as a wolf or a lion.

Two ears sprung up and it's head popped up, alert and curious. Its stout, chubby body reared on its strong hind legs, paws on its tummy and nose twitching as it looked around.

It was… a rabbit.

“Are you serious?! Hiyori gets a wolf and I’m a fucking bunny?!” Yukine raged. He wanted something fierce, not the Easter Bunny.

“Well, you do kinda remind us of an _angry_ bunny, Puff,” Yato chided, using an old nickname he had given Yukine when they’d first met.

Yukine flipped him off with his free hand in response, looking at his cute Patronus forlornly. Hiyori couldn’t hide her smile when Yukine pouted angrily.

The class continued, with most students being able to form some sort of shield or even a bodily Patronus form. Yato instructed those who couldn’t find more memories they could try in the next session, reassuring them that he had tried a few memories before he had been able to use the spell.

The class picked up their bags and clothing as they filtered out of the Room of Requirement slowly. Yukine kept watch as students filtered out in small groups to ensure that no one was watching, the fear of expulsion a genuine concern for some of the younger years if they were caught in a secret society.

Hiyori wrapped her scarf around her neck and threw her warm robe over her arm, stuffing her gloves into the pockets. A smattering of students remained in the room, waiting for their turn to leave.

Yato was talking quietly to Bishamon and Kazuma were in the centre of the room. After a moment, Yato collected his things from the fireplace and joined Hiyori by the door as the final group of students slipped out and down the hallway.

“Ready?” Hiyori asked.

Yato hummed in agreement and Hiyori slipped out of the door. Yato caught the door and looked behind to call out to Kazuma and Bishamon to hurry up, but he closed his mouth quickly and slipped out of the door.

Yato let the door close softly so as to not disturb them. Yato turned, trying to get the image of what he had just seen out of his head and faced Hiyori and Yukine, who had come back from his watch-post.

Hiyori was filtering through her satchel and robes, hair curtaining her face as she searched for something.

“What’s wrong?” Yukine asked.

“I left my hat on the fireplace,” Hiyori answered.

She stepped around Yato and placed a hand on the door handle. Yato caught her arm before she could open the door.

“I wouldn’t go back in there if I were you,” Yato advised.

Hiyori paused, hand still on the door handle and looked at Yato quizzically. “Why?”

Yato smirked.

Hiyori didn’t see, but when Yato had turned to call Kazuma and Bishamon, he’d noticed a sprig of mistletoe emerging from the cracks in the ceiling and dangle above the couple.

“Because Kazuma and Bishamon are making out.”


End file.
